


Drive me Crazy

by Jiminphiliac



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fire and Blood, House Targaryen, Incest, Jon Snow is Azor Ahai, Jonerys, Jonerys Endgame, Stark bashing, a certain stark dies, a little bit of jonsa but is one sided, after the great war, anti Sansa Stark, anti jonsa, jonerys wins in the end, kinky jonerys in the end, one sided incestuous feelings, sansa stans proceed at your own risk, soft dany scenes, soft jonerys scenes, unrequited jon snow/sansa stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23672431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiminphiliac/pseuds/Jiminphiliac
Summary: The Great war is won, and all the monsters have been slain. Dany has worked hard to protect everyone from the blue eyed monsters. But if she has to fight a final battle with a certain blue eyed woman who is filled with lustful feelings for her man, she would drag her to the ends of the earth and win her already depressed and confused man back by showing him who is the boss. If the endgame has to be incest, why not settle for superior Targaryen incestuous excellence amirite?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 39
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is more like a one shot and covers what happenes after the great war. Timeline is from the night the war gets over to a few months later  
> A few plots have been changed and Sansa Stark is not treated well in this story so do not leave hateful comments i will delete them.  
> Has some kinky graphic jonerys intercourse scenes in the end so proceed at your own risk  
> It will have 4 chapters in total

The Great hall was bursting with activity, all the great lords on either side of the table, feasting on the never-ending platters of delicious food, while their eyes feasted on the servant girls who kept the trays of scrumptious food and barrels of exotic wine coming. At the head of the table, sat the only people who mattered in the hall. The Lady of Winterfell sat at one end, sipping wine with quite the hurry, her flaming red hair braided in a weird, un-northern fashion, her icy blue eyes shifting from the servant maid as a sign to keep pouring more wine to the couple sitting beside her, drinking more fiercely with every glance to her side. 

Sitting to her left was the Hero of Winterfell, Azor Ahai, the one who defeated the Night King that night, bringing dawn and prosperity to the world. His onyx black hair was up in a messy bun, the way his father used to wear it. A few strands were damp with blood, with everyone crowding him and showering him with praises and hugs and the wildlings lifting him and hollering after every other drink, he didn’t have much time to clean himself after the final battle. His glass remained half empty, and while everyone’s eyes were on him, he had eyes only for one person, the woman sitting to his left.  
Her platinum blonde hair which is usually up in a gorgeous, intricately braided updo was now loosely braided, out of respect for the people they had lost that night, her dearest friend Jorah, her child Viserion, and Arya Stark. She hadn’t known her for a long time but they had mutual respect and admiration for each other. They had spent time talking to each other about their journeys, which proved to be quite similar, and while Arya taught her a thing or two about sword fighting, which almost saved her life that night during the battle, Dany had introduced her to Drogon and Rhaegal. She had been quite the smart woman, wise and strong beyond her years and hearing about how she bravely died protecting her brother in the Godswood pained her heart. 

Dany had barely touched her food or her drink, deeply engaged in a conversation with Jon. She knew while everyone was celebrating their victory, Jon was devastated after losing his favorite sister. She was a part of his soul, and from what she had seen and heard from him, she had understood Jon in ways no one had, and had been the person Jon had trusted the most, and vice versa. Dany placed her hand on his and squeezed it reassuringly, her lilac eyes softening as they met his sad, dark eyes. He smiled back at her and held her hand tightly, like his survival depended on it. Dany's warm smile faltered as she felt a pair of deep blue eyes on her. Those eyes somehow nagged her more than the icy blue eyes Jon had closed once and for all that night.

“Jon, would you like to retire for the night and rest? You’ve been through so much and you’ve barely eaten" Dany said, tilting her head to the side to avoid the other woman's nasty gaze. Jon nodded slowly and jerked his chair back slowly as he got up, the movement at the head of the table turning all heads towards him. An extremely drunk and unsteady Tormund rose and lifted his glass, which was filled to the brim with what looked like his 20th round of wine. “To Jon Snow, the Pretty crow who saved the world" he boomed, his words slurred yet loud. Everyone followed suit and banged their fists on the table, their chants and laughter echoing in the great hall. Sansa smiled, probably for the first time all day, and lifted her glass, standing up and moving close to her brother. She took a sip and cocked her head sideways to meet her brother’s eyes expectantly. 

Jon lifted his glass, which was still half empty, and managed to give his best smile. “To the Dragon Queen, without whom we’d all be corpses marching south right now. The queen who is going to be leading us all towards an era of peace and prosperity” he said before taking a sip and looking sideways at his woman. Dany's lips curved into a beaming smile as everyone in the room cheered for her even louder as they drank to their heart’s content. Dany lifted her glass and waited for everyone to calm down a bit before sliding her hands into Jon's and entwining their fingers. “To Arya Stark, the warrior who sacrificed her life to save her family and all of us. To every man who was slain today, protecting the living. Here’s to the ones that we lost, and they shall never be forgotten. We’re forever indebted to them all"

An unsettling silence settled in the hall as everyone took a moment to remember not only the Warrior of Winterfell, but also every single man, woman and child they had lost that day. They all stood up and rose their glasses, sparing a minute to honor the dead. Jon's eyes filled with tears at the mention of his sister’s name, taking a sip of wine to ease the pain that slowly gripped his heart. Dany took Jon's arm and supported him as they made their way out of the hall. The minute had passed and everyone was back to gorging and drinking and whoring, while Sansa stood there, glaring daggers at her queen the entire time. It should have been her who was there to support her brother during a troubled time like this. 

“What does she know about Arya?” muttered Sansa as she plopped back into her chair, running her hand through her messy braids, tugging at them out of her anger. The maid next to her who was holding the wine jar stood silently, wondering why her Lady's hair looked like a poor, knock-off version of the Queen’s braids. “She thinks she can say some words, feign sorrow and manipulate Jon. I should be the one toasting to the memory of Arya. I should be the one Jon finds comfort in. His own SISTER" she hissed under her breath as she chugged down the contents of the glass, signaling the maid to pour some more. The poor lady poured some more, her brows furrowed in worry. It was like her lady was contesting with Tormund to see who was going to be the most hammered by the end of the night. And by the looks of it, the very tactic, well groomed, honorable daughter of Ned Stark was clearly winning.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of the fire crackling filled the silent room as Jon and Dany were preparing to retire for the day. Jon sat down on the bed and bent down to slip his boots off, but all of a sudden, he could not move. He felt dizzy, and his hands felt so weak that he could barely untie the strings. His fingers shivered as he tugged at the strings impatiently, a layer of sweat covering his forehead, as though it was a herculean task. He blacked out for a second and suddenly he felt like he had teleported elsewhere, the screams of men dying and clanging of swords against each other echoed in his ears. His hands felt sticky, like they were covered in blood. He groaned and shook his head, his whole-body trembling like a leaf.

Jon felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, a distant voice laced with fear calling out his name, a familiar voice that grew louder by the second. He snapped out of it, his eyes frantically scanning the room, his heart beating so fast he could feel every thump against his chest. He calmed down as his eyes landed on a familiar face, the face of a woman with the most haunting yet beautiful eyes he had ever seen, eyes that seemed to magically calm him down. Dany was in her satin night gown, one that Missandei had given her a long time back, one she wore to bed every single night. Her silver locks looked golden in the dimly lit room, cascading down freely on either sides of her face and her back. “Jon, it’s fine, you’re fine...don’t worry” she whispered, rubbing his back slowly, her other hand still on his shoulder. He felt like her hand was the only thing holding him together in one piece, as though he might crumble to dust any second. Dany’s eyes shifted to Jon’s hands, which were still holding on to the strings on his boots. Dany slid down from the bed and sat on the floor, slowly removing his hands and untying his boots on her own. Jon was taken aback and wanted to lift her off the ground but he felt too tired to move. 

“D-Dany..what are you doing? Get off…get off the floor” he said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’ll call in one of the maids..I..I’m just a little tired..” he said as she placed his boots by the side of their bed and got on her knees. Her face was in the same level as his, her eyes directly staring into his dark ones. She leaned closer and brushed her soft lips against his dry ones, cupping his face between her hands. Jon let out a soft gasp as he felt her lips against his, unexpected gesture, yet very welcome. She pulled away a moment later and smiled, before she placed her finger on his lips to silence him. Her hands dropped down to his waist and unfastened his belt, letting it drop down. She tugged at the end of his leather waistcoat and pulled it upwards. Jon lifted his arms instinctively, as she slipped it off and let it fall to the ground. Soon, his tunic and pants followed suit, and he sat there, with only his undergarments, and surprisingly not feeling over exposed or vulnerable, and he knew it had everything to do with Dany’s presence. 

He heard a sharp knock on the door, and a moment later, Dany opened the door slightly, taking something from the other person, and then closing the door softly. Dany carried a basin and a washcloth to the side of their bed and placed it on the table, the water scalding hot from what Jon could tell. Dany sat beside Jon and dipped the cloth into the basin, wringing it before placing it on his chest and slowly moving it sideways. Jon’s eyes fluttered close by themselves, the sudden warmth making his pulse quicken. Dany continued dipping the cloth in the water and wiping it over his chest, then his back, Jon wincing slightly as the wounds on his back and his chest throbbed because of the heat. He could feel himself relaxing and sinking back into the bed comfortably, instead of nervously sitting by the edge of the bed, ready to rise and run at any moment. He realized all that was behind them now, that there was no need to feel prepared at all times again. His heart had skipped a beat every time he saw anyone with blue eyes, his ears dismissing every sound other than that of the horns being sounded. He need not keep count of the number of times they blew the horns ever again, it would never be three. 

Dany leaned forward and brushed her fingers against a bruise on the side of his head. She kissed it slowly, her lips on his wound send a shiver down his spine as he let out an involuntary breath. She wiped over it with the cloth and did the same thing on the other side, it was like she was trying to heal him by planting soft kisses on his bruises. And according to Jon, they seemed to be working. Dany climbed on the bed and sat on her knees behind Jon and slowly untied his man bun, running her fingers through his hair, massaging his head and temples in the process. She took the damp cloth and wiped the blood stains on his head, Jon shivering as the beads of warm water trickled down his back.  
He gasped slightly as he felt Dany’s finer brushing over the wound on his side, it was like a thousand needles pricking him all at once. 

Needle..

The thought of Needles brough back a wave of emotions he had been trying to keep at bay all night, the memories of the owner of a sword named Needle came rushing back to him. He felt something hot cascading down his cheeks and he realized he had started crying, and he was not able to control it. He gasped and coughed, it was like a door had been opened, a door which could not be closed again. It hit him all at once and suddenly, he felt like a vulnerable boy, all alone, the haunting sight of his sister’s smile dancing in front of his teary eyes. He tried to get ahold of himself but Dany’s hand found his and she shushed softly, keeping the cloth away and pulling him closer.

“It’s fine Jon, don’t control it. Let it all out, dear” she cooed, her voice steady, and yet Jon sensed a tinge of sadness in her voice. He knew how his sister and Dany had bonded from the moment they had arrived at Winterfell. Arya had gone on and on about how amazing Dany was and had also mocked at Sansa’s inability to invite someone prettier than her into their home. Jon rested his head on Dany’s fragile shoulders and let it all out, all the fond memories from his childhood coming back to him. Most of his happy memories from when he was a child all had either Robb or Arya as a part of them, mostly it was the latter. 

As Dany ran her fingers through his hair, the muffled cries of Jon filled the silent room. He would recall an incident from his childhood, the first time Arya had learnt to ride a horse, and how she had fallen into a puddle of mud, and how she had dragged him in too when he had laughed and mocked at her. Dany chuckled and listened to him as he recollected incidents like that, until he had no tears left to cry and all strength had left him. He slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep on Dany’s shoulders. Dany slowly lifted his legs off the ground and positioned him on his side of the bed, sliding a pillow under his head and pulling the sheets over him.

She chuckled as he snored softly, placing her palm on his cheek and fondly staring at him for a moment, before wiping the tears off her face and putting the basin away. She locked the door and slid into their bed beside him, placing her arm around him in a protective manner before falling asleep almost immediately, for demons of her own awaited her.

Somewhere on the other side of the silent castle, a door opened slowly, allowing a maid inside the room. She stepped in and closed the door behind her, taking a moment to admire the largest room in the castle, which had belonged to Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn, which was now inhabited by their eldest, and sadly, their only daughter.

The room was dimly lit, and Lady Sansa was seated behind the huge oak table, scribbling something on a parchment. She lifted her head and acknowledged the maid’s presence with a nod. “So..what did you see?” Sansa asked abruptly, her words slurred and her tone uneven. The maid remained silent, not knowing how to explain. She felt ashamed when Lady Sansa had first asked her of it, and obviously if she wanted to keep her life and her job, she couldn’t say no. Sansa stopped writing and stood up, walking towards the maid slowly, her posture slightly askew.   
“I asked, what did you see?” she repeated, this time her voice louder and sharp. “N-nothing much, milady. Queen Dae-..” she stopped half way and cleared her throat. Sansa’s eyes were dangerously bright, like that of a wolf’s and she narrowed her eyes at her last few words. “I’m sorry…milady. Lady Daenerys didn’t let me inside the room. I gave her the tub ‘n cloth ‘nd was asked not to disturb ‘em. ‘Twas dark inside, but I think I saw Lord Jon’s cloak ‘nd vest on the floor. And..and Lady Daenerys was wearing her night dress..” 

Sansa’s eyes widened as she hastily banged her fist on the table, the ink pot crashing on the floor, the ink staining the antique rug. “Disgusting, how cheap is she? Having intercourse with a man who has just lost..lost his sister?” she hissed loudly. The maid took a few steps back, desperate to leave her room, rapidly sweating. “Jon..she would have forced herself on Jon, that desperate bitch…she must have drugged the water and then wiped it all over him under the pretext of taking care of him..who knows what mad, sick things she is into? All these Targaryen monsters are the same” she spat. A few moments passed, Sansa stared at her table silently as the maid stood behind her, slowly creeping towards the door. “You can leave now” she finally said but the maid was long gone before she could finish the sentence.

Sansa locked the door behind her and threw herself on her bed, feeling the rage and jealousy building up inside her, eating her insides and tearing her apart. She pulled the covers over her head and gripped her pillow, all the frustration slowly melting away as she felt the soft feather pillow turning into the thick, coarse skin of an entitled silver haired woman. Sansa’s lips curved into a soft smile as she dozed off, dreaming of the light leaving the poisonous purple eyes, and felt a pair of strong, muscular arms around her waist. She pulled her hands away from the neck of the lifeless body that dropped to the ground and turned around to meet a pair of dark eyes, her hands gripping the man’s onyx black hair as she leaned in to devoured him.


	3. Chapter 3

“The last of the bodies have been burnt and the shelters far North have been repaired and are ready to be inhabited, My lady” Lord Umber said, pointing at the Map and then looking at the Lady of Winterfell who sat opposite to him, a look of impatience flashing in his eyes for an instant when he realized his Lady’s attention was on the glass of wine in front of her. She was slumped on the chair and lazily looked at the Map with disdain, nodding her head monotonously, without realizing Lord Umber had finished his report a while back.

All the lords in the room started whispering to each other, their faces clearly showing off their discontent, though it was nothing new to them. Three months had passed and Lady Sansa had remained the same throughout. At first they were all shocked and even furious because as their Lady and supposedly the woman who had promised she would get their independence from the Mad King’s daughter, she was supposed to lead them and show them the way towards normalcy and a better life after the battle. Bodies were strewn across streets and fields, houses had been destroyed, thousands of women and children were homeless and had to be fed. 

But instead, she barely came out of her room. She was almost always found with a wine glass in her hands and a maid on standby with a jar of wine. She was disinterested in all the rescue and rebuilding missions, and was yet big on words. Many times, the discontented lords would request an audience with her to slowly explain their problems and worries and for the time being, Sansa would give brave, uplifting speeches which left them all with a false and temporary sense of security. Whenever the lords were displeased and she sensed aggression amongst them, she would feign sadness and play the dead sister card, after which no one could utter a word. 

She spoke highly of the lords, showered them with fake compliments and made false promises which sounded good but were not in line with what the suffering population needed. She never passed a chance to bad mouth Daenerys and often tried to poison the minds of the other lords, to turn them against her, but they all backfired. It had been easier to keep the lords on her side before Daenerys arrived at Winterfell, as the stories about her mad father and half-baked stories of the mad king’s daughter burning noblemen in Essos and unleashing her monsters on those who disobeyed her were enough to control them. But the lords themselves had front row seats to see who the Mad King’s daughter truly was.

They had their doubts about her when she had arrived but she had won them over with her military knowledge and battle strategies. She had helped in formulating their plan of attack during the battle and for every doubt they had tossed her way, she had a fitting, sensible reply which showed them not to question her ever again, because they knew she might be a woman with a fragile physique, but she was a true warrior at heart and more of a man than half of them would ever be.

And even after the war, while Ned Stark’s daughter occupied herself with wine and wine and..well more wine, Daenerys had taken to the streets, taking a survey of the affected areas herself and personally hearing the problems of the common people. The northerners who had despised taking orders from her now gladly carried on her plans and worked well with the unsullied and the Dothraki. They hadn’t fully gotten used to the foreign army but they learnt to work with them and that was the need of the hour.

While his counterpart did her duty towards the people, Jon had also been busy, commanding the men and helping them with the rebuilding work. The major part of his work involved keeping the peace while things were being mended, as fear and a sense of insecurity makes even good people make the wrong choices. Immediately after the first reports of thefts, raiding of supplies and a murder committed in the process, Jon had made it his top most priority to make the people feel safe and protected. While Lady Sansa had dismissed the issue by asking the guards to hang those who had been raiding dilapidated houses for supplies, Dany had wanted to meet the men who had been captured and imprisoned. 

Most of the lords thought she would feed them to her dragons, and honestly they would not have blamed her for it, but what she did had surprised them all. When Dany had gone to meet the accused, she had asked the guards to remain outside and went inside the dungeons alone with their food one day. She had expected to find burly men and aggressive murderers to be chained up but she was surprised to see young boys crouching in the corner, who shivered and whimpered as she walked in. She also saw two women sitting beside them, wearing rags and holding each other’s hands. 

“M-my..my children were hungry…we hadn’t fed in days milady..I thought they were dying…they broke into an old house to collect whatever they could and..and one of your men caught them..and my boys..they got scared..and stabbed him but I promise..they did not mean to do it..please don’t punish them milady..” the woman cried and burst into tears, cradling her sons who didn’t dare to raise their eyes to look at Dany. She had kept their food on the floor and walked out without a word. When Jon had enquired that night as to their punishment, she had smiled and said “Free them, Jon”

He had been surprised to hear that, but she placed her hand on his cheek and cocked her head sideways, “If you had been in their position..if we had been in their position..wouldn’t we have done everything we could, even putting our lives at stake if it meant our children wouldn’t have to sleep with an empty stomach? They cared for their children Jon, fear and paranoia makes people to terrible things, and at times like this, it is our duty to put their minds at ease and help them through this”

Jon had smiled fondly at her and kissed her forehead, his heart swelling with love and pride. Even after the war, he had doubted if the other lords would accept Dany as their queen because even though she had helped them, they still saw her as a woman, an outsider, and a Targaryen. But watching her helping the people and getting along with the northern lords put his mind at ease. She would be a good queen and the North had nothing to fear, just like the other six kingdoms. 

The next day, Jon got up early and started working on a strategy to deal with the threat to the South, Cersei Lannister, the self-proclaimed queen of the seven kingdoms. “The mad queen” was the house hold name for her. With burning up the Sept, torturing people for sport and finally refusing to send her armies north to fight against the army of the dead, Cersei had officially lost the support of everyone else who had once supported her, because they had all stopped fearing her. Once they knew that the dragon queen had come to their aid and the rumors that Cersei had spread about her had been false, they started awaiting the arrival of the Targaryen queen. Their love and support for this queen that they knew only by reputation made them fear Cersei less and mock her more. 

After Dany had left their chambers to fly North to attend to a situation on the Wall, Davos and a few more military men sat together with Jon to review Cersei’s strength and their next course of action. As Jon intently stared at the golden lion painted on the map, he heard a sharp knock on the door. He raised his head and saw a group of all the northern lords left from the houses that mattered walking in, their faces giving away nothing. “My Lord, our apologies for barging in. We have an urgent matter that has to be discussed...” started Lord Manderly, his stormy grey eyes scanning the room “…privately” he finished, the other lords nodding in agreement.

Jon folded the map as the others left the room, following Davos. “Yes, my lords. How may I help you?” Jon asked, with a pleasant smile. He had been in good spirits for the past few days. All his life he had felt alone and unwanted, the wrong person in the wrong place, with no name, no identity, judged by the everyone based on his father’s adulterous behaviors and his mother’s unknown identity. Now, he was Lord Jon Snow, former King in the North, Hero of Winterfell, Azor Ahai, and soon, the King consort if the right person says yes to the question he had for her. None of the other titles or labels gave him more joy than what the last one would bring him. Not King Consort but husband and one day, father. 

One of the lords closed the door behind the party that exited and Lord Manderly sighed. Jon’s smiled faltered. “What happened?” he asked, his voice laced with fear, a sudden anxiety gripping his heart. “My Lord..it’s the Lady of Winterfell…your sister” he said finally, gazing at Jon with a guarded look. Jon leaned back in his seat with a sigh, his hand scratching his beard, a normal gesture whenever he was irritated or annoyed. Even though the lords had not approached him about this before officially, he had heard about his sister and her recent behavior all over the castle, from the high lords to the servants. But he cocked his head sideways, feigning ignorance. “What about her, My Lord?” he asked. His father used to tell him, how a lord must never assume what the other person has to say and give any room for assumptions and pre conceived notions. 

“Lady Stark has been…unfocused these past few months..”he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “She hasn’t been involved in the recovery missions, or plans, and is often seen..” his voice faded, as Jon noticed his difficulty in trying to find a polite word to soften the blow. “..drunk” Jon finished his sentence for him, having no time to entertain such fake niceties. He knew Sansa had been completely broken after what happened with…Arya. He knew different people process grief in different ways and it takes a longer time for some people to come out of it. But Sansa’s mood swings and her personality could not be tolerated by the lords anymore, Jon realized as each lord took turns in talking about her alcoholism, her false promises and her unkind words about the Queen, one harsher and blunter than the last. 

They finally finished and watched Jon, as he got up and sighed, “I will speak with her, my lords. I understand your difficulties and I will make sure this is taken care of..”he said formally. “..I also ask you to bear in mind that she still grieves her sister. I am too. We all are. For some people, it takes more time. So, I ask you not to judge her harshly” he added. Sansa was family after all, and he could not let her down in front of the others. “I also ask you to keep this between us. The people need to hear about the encouraging leaders they have, who are striving to get them back to normalcy” he said. To that, the lords all smiled instantly. 

“You don’t have to worry about that, my lord. Not a day goes by where the people don’t gather eagerly around one of the Queen’s men at night to hear about what she did that day. The men carve dragon toys from wood for their kids to play and the Queen’s lady has taught the womenfolk the Queen’s hairstyle as all the little girls want to wear their hair the way their Queen wears it. The people know they have a strong leader guiding them towards a better future. Leaders, including you” Lord Karstark said, as the others nodded in agreement. Jon had never seen such a wide smile on their faces, ever. With their angry faces and sour moods, the north men were a tough crowd. But Dany was able to break through their hard, cold exterior and secure a strong place in their hearts, and for that, Jon was grateful.

Jon exited his room along with the others, closing the door behind him. The lords walked away, laughing and joking, towards the great hall. As Jon followed them, he spotted one of Sansa’s maids walking towards the kitchen, with a sour face and an empty wine jug in her hands. Jon sighed and walked towards her. She bowed at once as she noticed him walking towards her. “Let Lady Stark know I will be..requesting an audience with her after lunch.” He said, frowning, as the maid nodded and walked away. Sansa had made it mandatory for anyone to request an audience with her before meeting her, even if it was her own brother. Jon sighed once more and proceeded towards the great hall, hoping to put an end to this and give Sansa the help she needs to become better and process her grief. What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t grief his sister needed help with, it was her incestuous feelings for him, one more thing she had apparently picked up from her mentor down south, along with the alcoholism and spreading rumors about women she didn’t like, mainly the prettier ones with silver hair.


End file.
